FB Knocks on the Door of Destiny
(knock knock)
Destiny: Hello?
FB: Hello, I am FB, I am supposed to be writing an awesome comic or doing my film studies analysis essay but neither seem to like me at the moment, in fact they are having a darts match. My head is the bull's eye. (turns around revealing darts in head)
Destiny: Oh...that can't be very comfortable...
Hillbilly: Y'eh gets used to it afta a while! (reveals foot of darts)
FB: (solemnly) Anyway, I am just here to say that I dislike not being able to do something productive, it contradicts the fundemental working impliments of my brain and sends everyone into a tizz-wozz...
Destiny: A what now?
Mysterious Voice sounding vaguely familiar to all present: Chi...far...splat...pai...zon...oke...ry...scab...broo...not...ly...robe...
(FB falls asleep in background and snores like rabbid panthers)
Aiken: It sounds like there's a whole pack of rabbid panthers in here!
Lyulf: (plugging ears) No shit.
(FB's snoring drowns out the voice of gloom and doom and boom and runcible spoon and giant cherry and sleet and fruit and marvellous medicine and sugar on the asphalt and robots and-)
Parrot: ASK ADMIRAL!!!
Other Parrot: Polly want a continent.
Circle Guy: Is it a ROUND continent?
(all stare with open mouths at continent)
Flynn: (mundanely) I do believe that the continent resembles a chicken Mr Circle Guy.
Dr Nathead: (holding magnifying glass to Flynn's noggin) You have a monkey's cranium!
Flynn: That's...nice...(runs for the hills)
I am going to make a poem about Rock now because I am creepy and I don't want to get off of the computer before the end of this song:
There are two types of rock down here,
Not just the stuff you get by ear,
There's a type of rock all grey and stony,
You can talk to it when you're all aloney!
I call mine Larry.
Larry the rock can't play guitar,
When the lights are on, he isn't the star,
He leaves that to a professional rocker,
And he resides within my own school locker,
But don't tell BW.
If BW you knew she might take out an eviction notice,
'Larry gets out, we'll have none of this!'
See BW shares my space at school,
Which is cool,
The rhythm for this has totally gone,
And I still don't know where the hell is Ron,
I really should go look for him he's been gone a long time,
And I'm having lots of trouble getting stuff to rhyme,
So I'll see you later BW don't know what this was about,
See you later everybody, FB out.
Destiny: Hello?
FB: Hello, I am FB, I am supposed to be writing an awesome comic or doing my film studies analysis essay but neither seem to like me at the moment, in fact they are having a darts match. My head is the bull's eye. (turns around revealing darts in head)
Destiny: Oh...that can't be very comfortable...
Hillbilly: Y'eh gets used to it afta a while! (reveals foot of darts)
FB: (solemnly) Anyway, I am just here to say that I dislike not being able to do something productive, it contradicts the fundemental working impliments of my brain and sends everyone into a tizz-wozz...
Destiny: A what now?
Mysterious Voice sounding vaguely familiar to all present: Chi...far...splat...pai...zon...oke...ry...scab...broo...not...ly...robe...
(FB falls asleep in background and snores like rabbid panthers)
Aiken: It sounds like there's a whole pack of rabbid panthers in here!
Lyulf: (plugging ears) No shit.
(FB's snoring drowns out the voice of gloom and doom and boom and runcible spoon and giant cherry and sleet and fruit and marvellous medicine and sugar on the asphalt and robots and-)
Parrot: ASK ADMIRAL!!!
Other Parrot: Polly want a continent.
Circle Guy: Is it a ROUND continent?
(all stare with open mouths at continent)
Flynn: (mundanely) I do believe that the continent resembles a chicken Mr Circle Guy.
Dr Nathead: (holding magnifying glass to Flynn's noggin) You have a monkey's cranium!
Flynn: That's...nice...(runs for the hills)
I am going to make a poem about Rock now because I am creepy and I don't want to get off of the computer before the end of this song:
There are two types of rock down here,
Not just the stuff you get by ear,
There's a type of rock all grey and stony,
You can talk to it when you're all aloney!
I call mine Larry.
Larry the rock can't play guitar,
When the lights are on, he isn't the star,
He leaves that to a professional rocker,
And he resides within my own school locker,
But don't tell BW.
If BW you knew she might take out an eviction notice,
'Larry gets out, we'll have none of this!'
See BW shares my space at school,
Which is cool,
The rhythm for this has totally gone,
And I still don't know where the hell is Ron,
I really should go look for him he's been gone a long time,
And I'm having lots of trouble getting stuff to rhyme,
So I'll see you later BW don't know what this was about,
See you later everybody, FB out.